


For my DJ

by Shellyishathewriter



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Poetry, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 23:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16027859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shellyishathewriter/pseuds/Shellyishathewriter
Summary: After realising he might loose Shao, Zeke does what he knows best and writes him a poem explaining how he feels.





	For my DJ

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written for this fandom before or on this site before but I've been sitting on this poem for a year now. This piece was inspired by the fic Broken Hearts Delight bypessimisticfangirl. Also American slang does not come naturally to me as a Brit so let me know if I've messed up. :)

I'm not a singer but  
you got me strung out on melodies,  
feeling like I can sing if you just  
play something for me.  
You got me hoping you'd chase my words  
with your lips  
so I don't gotta think them no more.

Alien ha?  
Rumi was always way ahead.  
He could see it on me,  
read it in my stolen touches,  
my smile that was way too big.

You call me your wordsmith and  
that's what I am, can't be nothin else.  
You got my heart hoppin, palms sweatin  
hopelessly pinin for you.  
Got me pursin my lips in case praises choke me  
and spill from my mouth like a fountain.

I said I loved you like a brother but  
I'd much rather you were my lover.  
These thoughts of mine are far from brotherly.  
Watchin those dexterous digits make magic,  
Shaolin so fuckin fantastic,  
I meant it when I said you a natural everything.

I said you were my man and that's not the same as a friend.

As your man I could  
watch those hips twist as you spin,  
watch you bite your lip and imagine things  
I ain't supposed to think about.

You ain't a fag, nah.  
But with that twinkle in your eye you teasin me.  
Spinnin and grinnin  
looking like a fresh glass of koolaid on a summer's day all wet.  
Got a nigga wishin he was the condensation just  
drip drippin.  
I think you get the metaphor.

I especially like it when I tell you something  
and you look at me like you ain't seen me before.  
Fresh in your eyes like a cool breeze,  
making me laugh and shit.  
Hands absent on my thigh while my mind goes places it shouldn't be.  
Head so close my hands itchin to thread through you fro.

I ain't a fag though.  
And I don't like that word either, or the way Cadillac says it.  
I'm not jealous.  
I pity him for having a beast for a mother.

I don't wanna taint this so imma make it brief.

She stole from you Curtis  
and I'm sorry.  
You opened up and I pushed you off me.  
You're dealings with her cut me deep.  
Thinking about my man off in those streets and  
not in my sheets, had me all sorts of fucked up.  
Wanting to hold you to me as the projects set ablaze around us  
but instead being fucking hopeless to you fallin.  
Rememberin you telling me to cross the street,  
feelin like you loved dealin more than me.  
I said you weren't in the real world but  
I get it now.  
I weren't either.  
Idolising Mylene, getting mad at you  
for my parents and it weren't even your fault.

Shit. Curtis. I'm sorry


End file.
